


It’s Never Enough

by marshv



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Dark Dipper Pines, Guilt, M/M, Masturbation, One-Sided Attraction, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Post-Weirdmageddon, Trans Dipper Pines, Vaginal Fingering, Weirdmageddon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-05 18:49:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19046278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marshv/pseuds/marshv
Summary: He felt guilty, but not nearly guilty enough. One of these days he would have to stop doing this.





	It’s Never Enough

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Coping Mechanism](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10586178) by [marshv](https://archiveofourown.org/users/marshv/pseuds/marshv). 



> This is essentially a rewrite of **[this fic of mine](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10586178)** but with trans Dipper.
> 
> This has been in my drafts for 500 years and I wanted to finish it and clear it out. Gravity Falls was on the other day and I thought “oh wow remember billdip?” that was some good shit. So yeah.

It was something that burned a searing guilt into the back of Dipper's mind. Scorched a brand into his skin that only he could see. It was a depraved, shameful desire that he kept hidden away from everyone. 

Bill Cipher had tormented them all for years. It was terrifying to him; To think that Bill had almost killed him, ended his existence. He'd been bled out and broken more times than he could count. 

But he was alive. He was alive and blushing under his sheets and it was all because he was a sad, lonely teenager with a superiority complex laced with lingering self hatred. 

He was better than them. 

And he was never good enough. 

His legs quivered under the touch of his hand ghosting over his bare chest. Sweaty, beet red, and trembling. Shame coiled in his gut when he felt himself twitch. It happened every time he thought of Bill, and he always ended up the same way.   
  
Taking a deep breath, he pressed his fingertips to the lines of his hips. The sharp bones dipped below his sweatpants, pointing towards his arousal like a neon sign. His thoughts clouded. Even as he traced around the layout of his body—pressed into the soft hair trailing down his stomach, making him shudder—the disgust at what turned him on gnawed at him. Sickened him.    
  
What did it mean that he regularly jacked off to fantasies about someone who almost killed him? What did it say about his mental state? Had the whole experience really frazzled his mind that badly?   
  
Bill had almost destroyed everything. Nearly burnt the world then salted the earth. A monster. A liar. Nothing but manipulative words and flattery that fed Dipper’s insecurities and threatened to twist his morals. Bill had been powerful, strong enough to make him do anything. Terrifying. Fascinating. 

He was everything Dipper wanted, the thrill he was looking for. The answer to the mundanity in his life.

A tear beaded at the corner of his eye. But he ignored it. There was no point in turning back. It would just prolong the inevitable and he'd be back in this same position in no time at all. 

His hand teased between his legs. Hurried and desperate. Wetness dripped down and pooled around his fingers. Disgusting, he thought. When it began to soak his clothes, he paused. A frustrated groan grew in his chest. It took some maneuvering but he managed to get his pants off.

Immediately his hand was back where it was. Fingers twitched with breath-catching anticipation.

He opened his thighs, bed creaking as he did. He took the palm of his hand, pressing and holding it over the swollen, sensitive skin between his legs, massaged between every fold and coated his fingers in the dampness leaking out. The heel of his hand slid over the nub of nerves there and he canted his hips to make it happen again. Shaking, he bit his lip to suppress  a whine. 

A fleeting image of Bill flared into his head. Dipper had no idea what it meant. What any of this meant. Even if he had his wits about him—which he did not— he knew very little about how Bill worked. He liked to think he knew. But there was so much he was still piecing together.

What he did know, was that he wanted him. Badly. Bad enough to turn down every guy that showed interest. Because none of them were Bill. None of them scared him and he  _ wanted  _ to be scared. None of them could impact him the same way. No matter what they did, they'd never be dangerous. They’d  never make him run for his life.

Bill could though. No problem. He could do anything. And god if Dipper wasn't desperate for that. Not having to worry anymore. No responsibilities. His free will completely under Bill’s control. An all powerful being, focused on him. Loving him. Watching him and leading him. Bill could take whatever he wanted. So choosing Dipper? Above everyone in the multiverse?

It definitely stroked his ego.

He had it in his head, this depraved desire, to be in control. Not the ruler of everything, no, but someone's right hand man instead. In fact, he was positive he could do it. He'd be great at it. 

It was like loving a serial killer. Those girls that got the hots over murderers or movie villains? This was the exact same thing.

He pictured Bill watching over him. Studying. Totally nonchalant and prattling on in that stupid voice of his while Dipper touched himself. He blushed with embarrassment despite being alone in the room. Bill was so unassuming. So sneaky. But with a flair for the extreme and a bloodlust that shook Dipper to his core.

He came undone with a whining grunt, a high pitched cry that was too loud and too embarrassing. It was a temporary solution to his intrusive thoughts. But at least, for now, he could forget.

He rolled over in bed, not bothering with his pants, and tried to ignore the feeling that he was being watched.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I’m more active on [twitter](http://twitter.com/jmarshv) nowadays.


End file.
